


Connor is Dead. Kinda.

by jarediscronchtastic, ShadowWolfArt



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Dead Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Ghost Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Heathers References, Jared Kleinman Being an Asshole, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, TW: Overdose/Self Harm, We're gonna try and post only at night, be more chill references, cause we're insomniacs, lots of references, or just work on it really late
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 08:01:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20132047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarediscronchtastic/pseuds/jarediscronchtastic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowWolfArt/pseuds/ShadowWolfArt
Summary: Ok, so this is a thing written by two very tired people who don't know each other very well.Hello! Um, my name is ShadowWolfArt, but my friends call me Shadow. Or they would if I had any friends. Yeah. That's me. Jared is... coming. Eventually.(This is basically what happens when the general of an evil chicken army [hey! That's me!] and a regular [read:cool] guy try to write about death.)





	Connor is Dead. Kinda.

“One more day,” Evan’s words came echoing back into Connor’s mind as he sprinted out of the back door. “Come back before dinner,” his mother called from the kitchen. Connor didn’t bother responding. He knew he wouldn’t be back in time to eat with the family that didn’t seem to be his anymore.

Panting, the lanky teen scrambled over the fence to the old orchard. He dumped out the contents of his old leather messenger bag. This time, he wouldn’t be stumbling home at one in the morning. If all went well, he wouldn’t be going back. Ever. He picked up an orange bottle, one of the many he had swept into his bag from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. “Stupid childproof caps,” he muttered angrily. He finally got the many bottles open. Taking three from each bottle, Connor use the water he had brought to swallow them. Then he downed more. And more, until his head grew foggy and his vision dim. His one regret was that Evan would be alone now. It’s ok, he told himself. He still has his mom, and he’ll forget about me soon enough anyway. They all will.

The white room smelled like chemicals, like the smell of cleaners used to try and cover up something else. The metallic taste of blood still seeped in around the edges of the lemon scent, for all these people had tried to get rid of it.

Connor looked down at his arm, and glared at the assortment of tubes protruding from his veins. With a shaking hand, he ripped out the tubes, and watched in detached fascination as blood welled up from the gash he had made in his forearm. He couldn’t even feel it.

Connor felt his eyelids grow heavy. When he finally let the darkness crowding in at the corners of his vision sweep him away, his only thought was “I’m sorry Evan. I guess Jared was right after all”

_ “Freak!” Jared shouted as he pushed past a younger Connor Murphy, dumping his book on the floor. “I-I’m sorry about that,” someone said. Connor looked up at the book that was being handed to him, then at the anxious looking boy attached to the voice. “Why’s it your responsibility to apologize for him?” Connor questioned. “You didn’t push me.” _

_ “Hey Connor!” Connor turned around with a slight smile on his face. “Evan! Hi!” A small smile crossed the dark haired boy’s face as his only friend pushed through the crowds of freshman year students. “I-I’m so nervous,” the smaller teen said, “What’s your schedule?” Connor pulled a slightly wrinkled paper from his pocket. The two newly initiated high schoolers compared their classes as they walked through the halls. “GAAAAY!” They looked over their shoulders to see none other than Jared Kleinman behind them, walking with the gang of friends he usually liked to hang out with. “C’mon Evan buddy, walk with us, not that freak.” “I th-thought we were just fam-” “Come on!” _

_ A trip to get ice cream after school at A La Mode _

_ Late night calls _

_ The memories blurred by faster and faster as Connor slowly rose to the surface of consciousness _

_ Fighting with his sister _

_ “I’ll kill you!” “Ge-get away from me!” “Aw, is the perfect Zoe Murphy SCARED?” _

_ Fighting at school _

_ Fighting with his mom _

_ Nights spent in his bathroom with a razor _

_ Days spent in a drugged haze, trying to distance himself from the pain. _

Connor opened his eyes. He was in... Evan’s room? And Evan- Evan was crying. Connor walk-floated over to the desk that was so neatly organized and stared at the email that was open on Evan’s laptop.

“Why are you trying to make us remember him? I’m glad that the freak is dead. I wish you were dead too.” 

_ Why are you trying to make us remember him? I’m glad that the freak is dead. I wish you were dead too. _Evan stared at his computer, tears silently streaming down his face. “Me too,” he whispered, “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So. School's apparently a thing now.  
Anyways, we've decided (I think) to put this on hold while we get life sorted out.  
But...  
WE WILL RETURN  
we just dont know when  
-Shadow


End file.
